Sprinting at Standstill
by These Lonely Skies
Summary: Keely Stevens didn't expect anything like this.


**((Sorry it's a bit short guys, it's only really an intro. We get into the real stuff with the next chapter, okay?))**

Keely turned the last page on the book and shut the cover with a sigh, her head still filled with fantastic adventures. She dreaded returning to the real world - it was always so much worse. She would prefer to read about someone else's misery rather than face her own. At least in the books, the heroes triumphed in some way. Keely feared she would never do that. She'd stay scared of everything until the day she died.

"I'm sorry, Miss, but the library's closing now," said a prim-looking elderly librarian, eyeing the girl with obvious distaste. She never borrowed anything, just came in and read novels about fantasy lands and looked out the window as if she was pained.

"Sorry!" Keely apologised hurriedly, standing and replacing the book on the shelf. "I lost track of time."

The librarian pointed to the door without speaking. Keely bowed her head and walked out, cursing herself for being so easy to boss around. Maybe if she stood up for herself more, she wouldn't be treated so.

At home, things were hectic, as usual. The babies were yelling - there were four of them, all under seven, all a burden to her mother and father, who would like nothing more than to dump them on their dependable seventeen-year-old daughter and go hang out with their crackhead friends.

"Where have you been?" her mother demanded as Keely walked through the door. "I have to go! It's not my job to take care of these kids. That's what you're here for."

Keely flinched, dreading the thought of how the lives of her brothers and sisters would turn out once she left for college. "Sorry, Mom. Here..." she rescued a wailing Daniel from her mother's arms. No one held him right, except Keely. They didn't bother learning, and they didn't spend enough time with their children to find out what was comfortable.

It wasn't always like this. Keely remembered them being better when she was young. Not perfect, but they were there for her. And they didn't go out and get stoned all the time. Or forget - and sometimes simply refuse - to change a diaper. That had all changed when Ariel, who should rightfully have been the eldest, died in a drunk-driving accident. She was the driver. She had been trashed. Go figure.

Keely couldn't even remember Ariel that well. She was a vague memory that lingered sometimes, but wasn't clear enough for Keely to miss her sister, or even be sad that she was dead. If she was stupid enough to drink that much and drive, she deserved what she got. It was a tough way to think of things, but honestly, Keely had enough bad stuff to think about in her life that anything more might tip her over the edge and tempt her to end up like her parents.

The slamming of the back door told Keely that her parents had left while she had been daydreaming. The girl sighed and shifted her hold on the now-soothed infant, jiggling him slightly.

"Things'll get better." she told him. "Promise. I'll come back and visit when I leave." _If I leave, _she added to herself, worry knotting her stomach. Her grades weren't good enough to get her into any good universities because she was always having to ditch school and look after her siblings.

"Ba." Daniel told her, looking as concerned as a two-year-old could.

"Ba, indeed," she murmured. "You hungry? Bet you all are. C'mon, little man, you wanna watch me make the food?"

Another piercing wail started up at the opposite end of the house, joined by another, then another, until all the babies except Daniel and Koralee were crying.

Keely sighed. "Better get started on the food, little man. Applesauce sound good for you? And Koralee and Jason can have the leftover pizza. That just leaves Nathan, and he still needs a bottle..." she set her brother down on the counter and reached up to the cupboard above him for the cans of applesauce and the baby formula.

Daniel giggled and grabbed at her necklace, tugging it. Keely winced as a few strands of hair were yanked in the process.

"Leave it, Dan." she said half-heartedly, glad to see her little brother happy while the rest of the house seemed so miserable.

Soon the food was all set. Now to herd the babies into the kitchen. She put Daniel into one of the little people chairs and told him to stay, going to fetch the others. Nathan yelling on her hip, Koralee and Jason trailing behind her - quieted by the promise of food - Keely led her troupe to join Daniel. Who had upturned his chair and was now climbing the couch.

"Daniel!" she scolded, swooping down on him and setting him on his rightful place. She ordered the two school-aged children to sit or else they'd get nothing. They obeyed. They knew already that she meant business. Jiggling her youngest brother and making "shhh" noises as she walked to the kitchen, Keely picked up and delivered the slices of pizza, then went back for the applesauce.

"Keep an eye on Dan," she told Jason over the noise of Nathan's grizzling.

Back in the kitchen, she warmed the milk, tested it, and dribbled a little bit onto Nathan's lips. He didn't pause in his crying.

"Shush," she told him desperately. "Hush little Natey, don't say a word, Sissy's gonna buy you a mockingbird, and if that mockingbird don't sing, Sissy's gonna cry too and you'll get nothing."

Okay, so it wasn't the traditional version. But he loved it, and it stopped him crying almost every time.

Thankfully, this was one of those times.

He was soon happily sucking on the bottle, and Keely found herself exhausted. She put him to bed after she burped him, lying him on his side so he would be in the recovery position if he vomited. Then she went back for Dan, whose eyes were already drooping.

"Appowsawce," he told her earnestly.

"Bah," she agreed. "Time for bed, little guy. You want a story?"

He nodded solemnly. She sometimes wondered what went on in that little head of his.

Later that night, after the kids were all in bed, Keely lay awake. She closed her eyes and prayed that Nathan would sleep until the morning. She had a bottle ready if he didn't. Thankfully there was no school tomorrow, not that she would have gone if there was. But it was nice to have a guilt-free day.

Laying there, fed up with her lot, Keely Stevens made a wish.

_I wish I could go somewhere else. Somewhere completely different._

Little did she know that someone was listening, watching the tired girl in the battered house.


End file.
